Sparks
by sydneysages
Summary: There's something beautiful about New Year's Eve, something that sparkles for all to see. For all of you, Happy New Year!


_I don't own anything_

_For Maddie, Albo, Ducky, Ro, Rae, Livsy and all the others in RoseScorpius fans _

_For Mad, because she's also a ginger with a soul_

_For Maddi, who shall not last however many days without an ;) face_

_For **all of you** out there reading this; Happy New Year!_

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><p>There's something beautiful in Founder's Square this New Year's Eve.<p>

.:.

Fireworks light the sky as they stand there, their eyes marvelling at the true, complete, utter beauty they behold. The flashing of the lights across the sky, the intricate patterns they create, are intoxicating to all – they capture the attention of not merely the humans, but the vampires as well.

The soaring of the wheels across the sky has eyes moving in a synchronised manner to follow it, the sparks of gold, of red, of silver the most beautiful thing to hit Morganville for so many months – at least since last New Year.

Hands move to clasp one another as people desire to see the New Year in together, their true loves being by their sides – and if not their true loves, then someone who they're close to for the current moment in time.

Michael turns to Eve slightly, his eyes flickering between her face and the vast enormity of the night sky: an empty canvas for them to paint their own future onto in the coming year. His pale, cool hand grasps her more petite one, linking them together in something so beautiful that doesn't need to be quantified by words.

Sam stands beside Amelie, the glowing nature of his bright red hair a beacon for something greater than merely a vampire: there's something so beautiful within him, a soul that shines so brightly that it cannot ever be doused, even by the ice coolness of the woman mere centimetres from him. Her shining blonde hair matches Sam's for it's visibility within the air, a glowing halo that seems to encompass everything around her. As his hand slips forwards to meet with hers, she tries to shake it away, tries to allow the dark wall between his _purity_ and her corruption to remain standing – yet it crumbles as soon as their fingers meet, the only moment where she can truly tell him how she feels.

Once again, no words are needed.

The patterns of fireworks change slightly, widening to become an almost spiral shape, encompassing the entire town of Morganville; _everyone_ here is responsible for the shaping of the future – they revel in the same glory; they mourn in the same manner. Such deep and meaningful lessons are held within the model of glorious shapes and colours, yet they're obscured by the aesthetic appearance of the sign for change within the future.

Myrnin, however, doesn't focus upon the fireworks as he stands near to the edge of Founder's Square, more than slightly bored. This has never intrigued him; the promise of apparent beauty to welcome in the New Year has not been something of any importance to him – the mere changing of the date shan't afford him a change in fortunes, he's sure, and yet there is continually the belief that this shall be the case. There is always the belief that _fate_ shall apparently change it's course to suit those who desire change – yet how can this be?

He stands mutinously, determined to cause some sort of ruckus that shall allow him out of the area before midnight calls because to see all these happy couples around him pains him deeply. Ada is gone forever; he will never get her back, never even have those fleeting moments with the machine as she materialised in front of him – she's gone. And he's alone, forced to watch those who have the chance to be happy flaunt it in front of him.

"They're beautiful, you know," Claire says as she stands beside him, her voice low and wistful as she watches the fireworks' progression across the sky. An almost calculating expression sits upon her face, a difference within the sea of expectant faces. "They don't change anything, of course, but they're beautiful."

He's struck by a sense of _need_ for this girl, his saviour, the one who supported him for so many months and unlocked him from the cage he was locked within. She released him…and he loves her for that, loves her in a way that can never be quantified because he doesn't love her like _that _– he merely couldn't see her die. There's a spark of something that could be nurtured and let flourish into something marvellous.

.:.

There's something breathtaking in Founder's Square this New Year's Eve. It isn't the fireworks – no, they're spectacular in their own right, yet they're not _beautiful._ It isn't the sea of faces all assured that they're the most deserving of change, of happiness.

It's the alchemist and his assistant who stand together, not touching, merely _together_ as they turn to look at the fireworks. Leaping across the skies, they touch so many people – and least of all those who need one another, for they have no other person to be with.

Claire stands beside Myrnin, a slight smile playing upon her lips as the clock starts to count down to midnight.

After all, who else could have gotten him to watch the fireworks?

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><p><em>Please don't favourite without reviewing.<em>

_Thank you._

_Vicky xx_


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